


A Different Kind of Captain

by catmanu



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Airplane Sex, Dejan's Other Boyfriends Mention, First Time, Initiations, M/M, We'll pretend dej understands plenty of Russian, Zenit St. Petersburg, bottom dej alert, coping with my feelings Leave Me Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catmanu/pseuds/catmanu
Summary: Dejan's first game with his new team is a success, but it's up to his new captain to decide if hereallyfits in.Luckily, their team airplane has a bathroom and Artem's got a plan.
Relationships: Artem Dzyuba/Dejan Lovren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	A Different Kind of Captain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Borderlinemediocre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Borderlinemediocre/gifts).



> I wrote this fast and sloppy on purpose so anything Bad in here is 100% my fault.
> 
> For my bro, my brainmate on this wild new adventure.

Dejan can't get his phone to connect to the plane's WiFi. All he wants is to banter with Carli a little more after playing against him (and kicking his team's ass) and message a man of his choosing on Instagram. But instead he's stuck with no one to joke with, connecting and disconnecting his phone to the broken WiFi over and over again. 

Two huge, thick arms come down on his shoulders and circle his neck.

"Dejan. Dejan Lovren."

It's his new captain. Dejan thinks of the other captains he’s known: Luka, Hendo. Artem is nothing like either of these.

"Artem. Artem Dzyuba."

" _Very_ good. Get your ass up, I need you to come with me."

Dejan stands up and stares into his new captain's blue eyes. He'll take orders when he needs to, but he doesn't want to _have_ to from this guy. He's tall and strong and devours the pitch when he runs, and he's clearly let that get to his head. And while Dejan can understand Russian decently, he can't speak it well enough yet to put Artem in his place. Yet. He thinks Artem likes this.

"Where?"

Artem points at the bathroom. "Bathroom," he says, too loud, too slow, like Dejan's an idiot or something.

"The bathroom? You're going to teach how to piss in Russian?"

Artem raises his eyebrows. "Are you done?"

Dejan guesses he is, if only because he can't figure out what to say next (in Russian.)

"Yes, the bathroom." And he licks his lips, and that's when Dejan's heart starts beating faster than it had been when he was out there running on the pitch.

Everyone's going to see them squeezing into the tiny airplane bathroom together, but Dejan's too on edge to even think about this. He both figures he knows what's about to happen, and doesn't exactly have an idea. In the tiny space, Artem smells overwhelming, a bit like sweat, a bit like cologne, and a bit like something else. Dejan thinks it means that he's horny.

Artem sprawls out on the toilet seat and pulls his pants down. "Let's get right to the point," he says. "Get down on your knees, Lovren."

Dejan does. Artem's cock is big even when it's soft, which Dejan couldn't keep himself from noticing in the locker room, but now he's got a semi and it's big. It's _big._ Dejan's mouth is watering a little because maybe he'd like to get his lips around it and taste it, even if Artem is an asshole. But it's _big_.

"You did well today, Dejan," Artem says. "As your new captain, I see you have the potential to help us improve." He's tugging at his cock right at Dejan's eye level. Dejan feels like he's being hypnotized. Artem is working it fast, getting it harder, and the smell of him is making Dejan start getting hard too. "So now it is time for you to officially join the team, no? This is how it works. You like sucking cock?"

Dejan nods.

"I couldn't hear you."

"Look at me. Watch my head." Dejan nods too slow. "Do you see? I am saying yes, yes I do."

"Such a brat, Lovren," Artem says. "Suck my cock, then."

Dejan tries not to think of the last one he sucked. It was a very different person, under very different circumstances, with a very different feeling in his mouth, but he's in Russia now with the rumble and whine of plane engines in his ears instead of unexpectedly sexy Egyptian pop songs about heartbreak playing over the perfect sound system in his Mercedes. He gets more than half of it down his throat and his captain twitches and scratches at the back of his neck. "Fuck. You weren't lying, huh? Didn't expect you could take all of that."

Dejan snorts and concentrates on the taste of Artem's skin, on the smell of his sweat and the way his balls feel as Dejan's chin begins to brush them. If his captain is going to make him suck his cock, then he's going to take charge of the whole fucking thing. Dejan runs his lips hard up and down his warm length and then flicks his tongue over the tip a few times, enough times to feel precum start to leak out. It didn't take too long for this to happen, and Dejan's proud of himself. He takes Artem's balls in his hand; they're big and warm and heavy, and Dejan wonders how long it'll take his captain to come. He'll swallow, of course, and then what?

Dejan thinks he should start fucking his throat with Artem's cock hard; it'll make him fall apart and then he won't feel like such a big shot anymore, won't he? He widens his throat and relaxes the muscles the best he can--which is pretty good--and suddenly Artem pushes Dejan's head back till the tip of his cock is resting on Dejan's wet lips. Dejan's mouth tastes like his precum and he wants more. He mouths at Artem's tip just to watch him shiver and flutter his eyes. He's _good._ He knows he's good.

"Stop, fuck." Artem shoves Dejan's head roughly. "Okay. Here's what happens now. I'm your captain, right?"

"Right."

"And because I am the captain it's my duty to make sure my whole team gets along, right? So I will help you learn Russian faster. Free lessons, right?" Artem winks.

"Oh, this is school? I thought it was a bathroom. That is weird."

"You're already a smartass in Russian, huh? I admire that. Here's how it's going to work. If you say something in here with me that isn't Russian. You know, English, Croatian...Arabic..." Dejan narrows his eyes at Artem; this guy actually has the balls to think he can _suggest_ things about him and Mo? "Well, you'll see. Stand up."

Dejan stands. Artem turns him around, bumping his nose into the bathroom door as he does, and tugs his pants down. It's pretty obvious that Dejan is hard right now. Artem smacks it and laughs and laughs more when the little sting of pain on his cock clearly doesn't bother him too much. 

"You've done this before, yeah?" Dejan turns his head. Artem is reaching for the little bottle of hand lotion that most airplane bathrooms have these days. He pumps some out onto his fingers and strokes his cock with it, the shine of Dejan's spit disappearing underneath the lotion. Well, fuck. This will hurt.

But he gives _everything_ one hundred percent.

"Yes. Isn't it..." Dejan thinks. "Obvious? That I have my boys?"

"Little bit. But that's not what I mean. I mean _this._ Sit." Dejan takes a deep breath and spreads his legs out, lowering his ass down till that monster _thing_ , now sticky from the lotion, is resting between his cheeks. After playing a full 90 for the first time in a while, his thighs don't really like this position, but he doesn't think Artem takes requests. "I mean. You've done _this_ before, taken a nice dick up your ass."

"Yeah," Dejan says. He likes honesty. But he also likes to talk too much. "But more small than yours," he adds, before thinking about whether he should be sharing this kind of thing with Artem.

"Oh. Well, most people are. Who was it?"

"I'm not going to say." Suddenly Artem has an arm around his waist, pushing him down onto his cock while pushing up into him, and Dejan blows out too hard and scratches at his thighs as the pain rolls up through his back in a way he knows Artem can see and feel.

"You tell me. I'm your captain." 

"It's none of your fucking business," Dejan manages to say through the feeling of Artem bottoming out in his ass, but he's so heated up from being annoyed and split apart and turned on that it slips out in Croatian. Artem smacks him across the face.

"Hey, what the _fuck?_ " In Croatian.

And Artem does it again. "I don't hear you practicing Russian. You want to be on my team or what, Lovren?"

"Fuck you." This is one of the first things Dejan looked up how to say in his newest language, and he's glad.

"Better. Now let's practice. Who was it? Wait, wait. Hold on. I'm going to guess. I like to get to be right." Artem still hasn't moved, and he's got his big arm wrapped too tight around Dejan's waist to let _him_ move, but he's stretching Dejan so much that Dejan is starting to sweat from keeping quiet about it. "It was...Little dude with the sexy tattoos. Vrsaljko."

God, Šime's name doesn't deserve to come out of this asshole's mouth. But Dejan's, well, kind of proud of this. Not everyone gets to have someone as beautiful as Šime in whatever way he likes. "Yes."

"I'm right!" Artem pumps his fist in the air behind him. "I figured. Good for you, Lovren. Now you can do a little comparison. He reaches with his other hand and gives Dejan's balls a squeeze. "Hmm, still hard even though I'm hurting you? I'm going to fill your cute Croatian ass up."

"You're already doing that. Be more interesting. Captain needs to be creative, yeah?"

Artem's first thrust into him makes him moan ugly and out loud, mostly out of pain, and his nose bangs into the door again. Yeah, he's let Šime fuck him in the ass plenty of times, and Šime's not gentle about it, but he actually _preps_ Dejan and his dick's not that big. Artem is _big,_ in all ways. Bigger than anyone on Liverpool. Dej thinks _he_ was the biggest there--not the tallest, no, but the _biggest,_ if he's being honest, in so many ways. But Zenit is a different world, and Artem _is_ that world. "Lift up. Ride me. I'm going to come as deep inside you as I can, Lovren. And then you can tell me who is the better fuck. Your little Croatian friend, or your new captain?"

Dejan rolls his eyes as he puts his sore abs to work. He lifts himself off of Artem's cock a little, trying to get it at the best angle as he sits back down. "I already know the answer to that one, and I think you do too, to be honest." In English. Why English? His brain is like...running around without a head, or something. He gets Artem's cock to brush against that spot inside him, and moans too loud again, this time not entirely out of pain. Artem's next slap in the face is even harder. Probably as loud as he is.

"Practice, Lovren, or shut up. Damn, you really do talk as much as you do in all the videos of you."

They're finding a rhythm, Artem thrusting up and Dejan squeezing around him. The burning, stretching feeling is something he _likes,_ it turns out. He rides Artem harder.

"Slow it down."

"Don't tell me what to do. We kicked your asses in the World Cup. I should be telling _you_ what to do."

Artem hits him harder in the face. "Don't be so fucking rude. I told you, I want you to practice your Russian. Is this how you're going to be on the pitch, too, huh, Lovren? Never listening?"

Dejan squeezes harder around Artem's cock so he has to thrust harder and stretch him more. Artem's strength is exciting. "Try not treating me like an asshole, then we'll see what happens, Captain Shithead." In Croatian.

But on purpose.

He barely notices Artem's hand next because of what he says. "It turns me on to hit you, did you know that?"

"Thank you," Dejan says, in Russian this time, and Artem grunts. "You're going to be a pain in my ass," he says. "But you feel so fucking good that maybe I don't mind."

Dejan grins a little wildly and rides Artem like his life depends on it, feeling stretched more and more each time Artem bottoms out in him _\--maybe I should do this more often, fuck,_ he thinks--and Artem sounds close already, his thrusts getting faster and low, funny sounds coming out of his mouth. He grips Dejans hip so tight it'll probably leave finger marks that people will notice in the locker room. This thought makes Dejan's cock twitch, and he looks down to see himself wet and leaking down his tip.

Artem groans out something in Russian that's too advanced for Dejan's quick combination native Croatian-phone app study, and he pulls Dejan down hard on top of his cock as he comes inside him, pumping hot and wet into him for what seems like an unnaturally long time. For some reason his other hand has crept up to grab Dejan's face, squezing his cheeks and his jaw and then resting on Dejan's lips. It's like Artem is trying to claim him as he comes, or something. That's how it feels.

Artem grunts again and shudders and breathes against Dejan's neck. "Shit, Lovren. Nice ass you've got, well done," he says. Dejan looks down at his cock; it's red and swollen and leaking and if Artem pulls that shit where you tell a dude not to touch himself, he's going to kill him in this bathroom, captain or not. He feels like if he really tried he could come just from humping the air a few times. Artem kisses the back of his head and pulls out and Dejan watches the contents of Artem's big balls start to run down his thighs.

"You see all of that?"

"Yeah."

"You liked having all of that up your ass, Lovren?"

"Probably," Dejan says. Well, it's true. He thinks he might like to push Artem againt the wall and lean on him a little. Feel what it's like to curl up against someone _bigger_ than he is, for the first time in his life. So that means he probably did like having all of that up his ass, yeah. Probably.

"So look at it and make yourself come," Artem says. "See, youre part of my team now, so I make helpful suggestions." When Dejan's too slow to move for Artem's liking, Artem grabs his wrist and wraps his hand in a fist around his cock. "Look at what I did to you and make yourself come."

Dejan spits down on his cock and goes for it. Artem's chin comes to rest on his shoulder, breathing roughly all over him. _He's watching me_. "You like this, Dzyuba?" Šime is Šime and Mo is Mo but just because Artem is taller and bigger and came up his ass doesn't mean he gets to be Artem out loud, gets the right to Dejan's big heart. Not at all. Someone like Artem has to work for it. "You like this, to watch me?"

"God, yeah. Fuck, yeah. I'm glad we signed you even though you talk too much. Look at you." He wraps his arm tight around Dejan's waist again, and fuck, he feels so strong and so good. Big. The biggest. "Come for Artem Dzyuba, Dejan, yeah? Come for your captain."

The stinging in his ass and the wet spots drying on his thighs and his hand on his cock and Artem's arm around him, their chests rising and falling together-- _oh--fuck_ \-- all become one perfect, perfect feeling and Dejan comes all over his shirt, his stomach heaving, his sore hole clenching around the ghost of Artem inside it. He's making a whole lot of noise, but still he hears Artem say in his ear, "Welcome to Zenit, Dejan."

"Now say it in Croatian," Dejan pants as his cock gives a last twitch and starts to soften, emptier than it's felt--in a good way--since he left Liverpool.

Artem laughs. "I'm serious, I love that you're a smartass. Get up. You've earned me helping you clean up."

Artem does a careful job of it, actually, gently wiping up into his crack and down his thighs with some wet paper towels while Dejan attempts to clean the mess he's made of his shirt.

"They all are going to know about this?" he asks Artem as he's about to open the bathroom door. "Look at my shirt. And...I'm loud. A little bit."

"Of course they know," Artem says. "What are you, embarrassed that we fucked? That's not nice. That will hurt my feelings, Lovren."

"Your feelings? Don't you do this with everyone anyway?"

"I made it sound that way, yeah?" Artem's grin is a little evil but it lights up his whole face, even the blonde scruffy hair all over it, even that. "I don't. We welcome the others in other ways. This is only for the ones I _like_."

He _likes_ me, Dejan thinks as he makes his way, tall and proud, back through the cabin, to his seat. There's some snorts and whispers and a couple slaps on the ass and Malcom leans over his seat to whisper at Dejan, "I'm surprised you can still walk, man."

"Like I say, I am a great defender," Dejan explains. "I can defend on the pitch, so I will say...I can defend my own ass too."

Malcom laughs and so does Dejan. He slips his headphones in and rests against the window, letting his eyes close as the air overhead blasts right onto the wet spot on his shirt and makes him shiver a little. Actually, Artem's left him so sore he'll feel it for days, which is something he'd never have a reason to say about Luka or Hendo for _any_ reason.

But, you know. Things are different now. And he's ready for anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments would make my day! :)


End file.
